


Bump It

by charleybradburies



Category: NCIS
Genre: Begging, Bickering, Domestic, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Double Drabble, Established Tony/Ziva, F/M, Families of Choice, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Future Fic, I Blame Tumblr, Ice Cream, No Sex, Parenthood, Pregnancy, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 02:00:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1964679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charleybradburies/pseuds/charleybradburies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a Tumblr post, naturally. <a href="http://zivadinozzos.tumblr.com/post/91903711994/queencotes-so-i-dont-know-why-but-in-the">This one, to be exact.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Bump It

"Oh, come on, Zi! It's only a few blocks away!" begs Tony, pouting with the exact same expression as his son - or rather, his son was next to him, pouting with the same expression as he.

"Nope," she says resolutely, pouting back at him teasingly as she finishes switching the tv to the Western channel for Gibbs as he comes to sit down on the couch. "It is nine in the morning, Anthony! You are not taking our son out for ice cream!"

"But, babe-"

"No, Tony, not happening." 

"We're having family dinner later, I can get some for everyone-"

"Tony, no."

Tony looks over to Gibbs.

"Boss, please, tell your daughter-"

"I am not your boss anymore, DiNozzo," Gibbs sighs, turning the volume up on the tv. "Besides, look at her. You know Shmiel was right when he said you couldn't refuse her."

"Yes, but- boss, you are not helping," he whines.

"Come on, Granddad. We'll get you some butter pecan," little Tony pleads, glancing between Ziva and Gibbs with his own pout. Ziva taps him on the nose lovingly and reaches into her pocket. Both Tonys light up as she dangles the keys in front of her husband's face.

"On one condition," she declares, and he nods. "Bring me that type that I like."

"The oreo? Yeah, absolutely," he grins, kissing her on the cheek and gesturing for his son to head out to the car.

"Mommy likes ice cream?" the boy asks as he slides into the backseat.

"Didn't know that?"

"She eats so many vegetables all the time. I didn't think she liked anything good."

"You know, sometimes I have doubts myself. Hey, little man, put your seatbelt on."

"I've got this, I promise," little Tony says as he fumbles with the belt, waving away a concerned look from his father.

"Got it!" 

"Get it? Got it…good."

\----

"All right," begins the older Tony in a theatrical voice, placing each pint of ice cream into the freezer as he names them, "we've got Miss Abigail's bubble gum, and McNutterButter's cookie dough, Miss Eleanor's fudge ripple, Mister Bishop's strawberry, PalmerSquared's coffee squared, Ducky's mint chocolate chip…"

He glances down to his right to see his son grabbing the second bag from his hand, and releases it. The little boy starts imitating him, although since he's unable to reach the freezer he hands them to his father. 

"Mommy's oreo, and Mommy's other oreo, and Mommy's other other oreo, and Granddad's butter pecan, and Daddy's and my nutty coconut!"

"You certainly are nutty coconuts!" Ziva says amusedly, tousling her son's hair as he hugs her leg. "What reason on Earth was there for buying me three pints of ice cream?"

Her husband looks at her as though she's made a legitimately ridiculous enquiry.

"One for lunch, one for dinner, one for a midnight snack," he says. "Duh."

She sighs and shakes her head, smiling affectionately. Her son releases her after a moment and goes to pull on his father's shorts demandingly. After they exchange an understanding look - they share the same expressions so it's quite simple to comprehend - Tony reaches back into the freezer and pulls out one of the pints of nutty coconut and the pint of butter pecan, carefully handing them to the boy, who rushes to grab spoons from the drawer and goes to sit on the couch with Gibbs. 

Expecting little Tony's most recent common greeting, Gibbs raises a fist, and the little boy enthusiastically bumps it with his own. He hears his parents chuckle from the next room, but is too busy yelling at the horses onscreen to "giddup!!" to see that they spend the next few minutes kissing, his father's hand on the not-yet-visible bump of his mother's stomach.


End file.
